


Angel Among Us

by captainamergirl



Category: General Hospital (TV 1963)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Anyone remember Angel?, F/M, Lucky's new love, Rare Characters, Rare Pairings, at all?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27078544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainamergirl/pseuds/captainamergirl
Summary: Lucky's new destiny is a woman named Angel. {Angel was a short-term but fascinating character from GH history. The sexy Angel Boris played her.)Please note: I have no intention of finishing this fic, but wanted to post it for the Good Intentions WIP Fest on Tumblr.
Relationships: Lucky Spencer/Angel Ellis
Kudos: 1
Collections: Good Intentions: Abandoned and Unfinished WIPs





	1. Evasive

**Author's Note:**

> Find out about the Good Intentions WIP fest here: https://goodintentionswipfest.tumblr.com/
> 
> This story attempts to answer the question of who the mother of Jagger's son (featured on Night Shift 2) was.

****

**1 - Evasive**  
  
 ** _October 2016_**  
  
 _She had to tell him the truth._ It was going to hurt like hell but after fourteen years, it was time to stop lying about who she was.  
  
She took a deep breath and willed herself to get moving. She had spent a thoroughly sleepless night in this bed though she had pretended to be asleep when he’d gotten up at six a.m. to do more packing for their trip to Port Charles. It was his hometown; naturally, he wanted to go back there now that he was retiring from the FBI. He thought it would be good for their son to have some stability. She knew it was the worst idea he could have come up with and she’d tried to beg off – she kept saying how happy she was here in California – but he’d insisted they would be just as happy in New York. Oh if he only knew what she was hiding…  
  
And he was about to find out. God help her. God help him and their son, most of all.  
  
Tears burned her eyes but she held them back. She pushed back the covers and taking a long, deep breath climbed out of bed. She padded bare-footed down the hall, passing their son’s room. She could hear his soft snoring. He always got up at nine-thirty on the dot; that was his routine. It was barely eight now. She thought about backpedaling and sequestering herself with her boy - who really wasn’t a boy anymore; he was thirteen now – but knew she couldn’t. Their flight was in just five hours. She had a world of things to do by then.  
  
Like tell her husband that she wasn’t really his wife at all. And that her name really wasn’t Arianna Garcia-Cates.  
  
She went down the stairs. Jagger was bent over a large box smoothing packaging tape over it. The hastily written words on the side said “Stone’s Instruments”. Yes, their son loved music. In fact, it was the only thing that calmed him when he had an episode.  
  
Tears burnt her eyes but again, she held them back. “Jagger,” she called out.  
  
He turned around and smiled at her. “Hey, babe,” he said. He saw the look on her face. “Wait. Is something wrong?”  
  
She nodded. “Uh, yeah, a lot is wrong actually.” She gazed into his eyes. She wanted to memorize that look of love in them before the expression inevitably turned to one of hate. The thought brought the tears finally. One after another. Jagger ran to her and yanked her into his arms.  
  
“Baby, Arianna, what’s wrong?” He asked, holding her tightly to his impossible hard chest. “Arianna?”  
  
“I’m not –“  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’m not … Arianna.”  
  
“What?” He pulled back and looked at her.”You’re not … You’re not Arianna? Then who are you exactly?” He looked anxious. “Wait, where’s the camera? You’re Punkin’ me right?”  
  
She shook her head. A strand of her shoulder-length black hair fell in front of her face and she made no effort to push it away. Neither did Jagger who typically loved nothing more than touching her and running his fingers through her locks.  
  
He finally released his hold on her. “Well, if you’re not Arianna. Then who the hell are you?”  
  
Angel dabbed at her teary eyes. “My name … This isn’t coming out right, is it? I lay awake all night planning what to say and none of it is coming out right…”  
  
Jagger stared at her in exasperation and anxiousness. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“We’ve been through so much, Jagger, but the truth is that … I’m not your Arianna. My name is Angel. The reason I can’t go back to Port Charles –“  
  
Jagger looked horrified. He covered his eyes for a moment and shook his head. “No, no.”  
  
“Yes, Jagger, it’s all true.” She reached for his arm but he yanked away like she had scalded him.  
  
“You said go ‘back’ to Port Charles… You’ve been there?”  
  
Angel nodded. “Yeah. I’m uh … God, I’m wanted for murder there.”  
  
“What the hell?!” Jagger shouted. “Are you kidding me?”  
  
“I wish this was a joke or just a really bad dream but it’s the truth. I can never go back to Port Charles with you because if I do, I’m going to prison for a really long time.”  
  
Jagger finally looked at her and she saw iciness in his eyes. But beyond that iciness was heartache. “Who the hell did you supposedly kill, Angel?” He practically spat out her name and she cringed.  
  
“I killed my father.”  
  
“What the fuck?” Jagger began to pace. “No. No. Just make this stop!”  
  
“I can’t. I should have told you the truth when we met in that Parisian café fourteen years ago. But I couldn’t. We made a child that night; something I never intended but I wasn’t going to ever take your son away from you.”  
  
“You tried to in 2008!”  
  
“I know and that was so wrong. We were having a lot of problems then and then you went off to Port Charles for awhile and you grew close to another woman and –“ She broke off. “Nothing though that you did could ever do would compare to what I’ve done.”  
  
“Damn right!” Jagger said. “You lied to me. From the moment we met. When I asked you about your past, you were always evasive and I should have pursued the truth but I was in love with you from the second I saw you.”  
  
“And now?”  
  
“And now the sight of you disgusts me. I never want to see you - ever again.”  
  
“Jagger –“  
  
“Just shut up, Ari – Angel! Whoever the hell you are. Get out of here.”  
  
“I can’t. I can’t leave Stone!”  
  
“Stone doesn’t need a woman in his life who would lie to him the way you have. So leave. We’re going back to Port Charles without you. Just go, Angel! There’s nothing left for you here. If you don’t walk out of this house right now, I will call up my buddies at the bureau and have you hauled off. I don’t want my son –“  
  
“Our son!”  
  
“My son!” Jagger thundered. He glared at her but his lips trembled like he was close to tears as well. “I don’t want him to have to see you do the walk of shame out of here I handcuffs so go now. Pack up your stuff and get away from us. Never bother us again, do you understand?”  
  
A sob escaped her lips and Jagger looked tempted to try to soothe her but he didn’t. He just jabbed his finger pointedly at the door and bit out, _“Do you understand?”_  
  
Angel nodded. “I understand, Jagger.”


	2. Torment

**2 - Torment**  
  
“Sam, I need to talk to you,” Lucky said as soon as she had opened the door to the Spencer house. It felt so odd, so completely unnatural, knocking on the door of his own house – the same house he’d grown up in - but he’d been the one to suggest that they needed space – and he knew it was what was best for her.  
  
“Hi, Lucky,” Sam greeted him. Her voice was low and hoarse. She had been crying again. She seemed to do that a lot now. Ever since Jason had returned, he knew that she had been filled with indecision and torment.  
  
Lucky shook his head. They would have to talk about him but for now; he had to ask how she was, as if he couldn’t tell from the weariness in her eyes. “You okay?” He asked gently, looking around for a place to put his jacket and in the end, deciding to keep it on.  
  
“As well as I can be, I guess,” Sam said, sniffling a bit. “How about you?”  
  
“I’m fine,” he said. _Lie, bitterest lie._ He had nearly fallen off the wagon last night. He had gone right to The Floating Rib, intending to get shit-faced but in the end, he couldn’t do it. Mac Scorpio had told Lucky point-blank that he wouldn’t serve him and Lucky hadn’t really had the stomach for it either. He puked the moment he left the bar but not because he was drunk; no, but because all the venom he felt inside came burbling up. And he knew in that moment, he couldn’t live like this anymore – in limbo, wondering when Sam would up and leave him for the one man she had always truly loved.  
  
“How’s Danny?” Lucky asked, hovering near the door. He wanted to escape even as much as he wanted to stay. But this wasn’t his home anymore and she wasn’t his wife anymore. Their marriage had been null and void the moment Jason turned up alive. It never had been real to begin with – it was all a beautiful illusion.  
  
Sam smiled weakly. “He’s great. He’s with –“ She broke off.  
  
“You can say his name, Sam,” Lucky said. “Jason’s your husband.” _Not me,_ Lucky thought, _god, not me._  
  
“Lucky, I just –“  
  
“What?”  
  
“I don’t know but this feels like … It feels like you’re drifting away and there’s nothing I can do to stop you.”  
  
“I _want_ you to stop me, Sam, but can you look me in the eye and honestly say you don’t still love Jason? That I’m the only one in your heart?”  
  
“Lucky, I _do_ love you.”  
  
“Maybe you do but a part of you … I mean, I saw your face when Jason walked in that door two weeks ago… A huge part of you will always be madly in love with him. And I can’t compete with that.”  
  
“You don’t have to compete with anyone, Lucky,” she whispered. She reached for the sleeve of his coat, trying to tug him close but he remained rooted to his spot. If he went near her, his resolve was going to crumble and he would stay with her even if that’s not what she completely wanted.  
  
“I won’t be second choice, Sam. I feel like I’ve been that all my life and I can’t accept it from you, especially not you. You always said that had I saved you but you don’t do that anymore. Once again, you look at Jason like he hung the moon. I can’t measure up to that sentiment and I would never want you to stay with me because you felt obligated to.”  
  
“Lucky –“  
  
“Do you love him?”  
  
Sam’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded somberly. “Yes. Very much.”  
  
“Well that’s all I need to know.” Lucky started to turn towards the door. He heard Sam let out a little sob and he wanted to turn back, take her in his arms, soothe her fears and her nerves; tell her everything would be alright but it wasn’t to be.  
  
“Lucky, thank you for the last year. You _did_ save me and I am so sorry that I ended up hurting you - again.”  
  
Lucky nodded and said nothing as he headed to the door, pulling it open. He paused for a moment on the threshold. Once he took that step, he was never coming back.  
  
“Danny and I will move out tonight,” Sam called out to him.  
  
He didn’t look at her. “Don’t. Just stay here for as long as you need. This isn’t my home anymore anyway.”  
  
Another muffled sob emitted from her lips. “Goodbye, Lucky.”  
  
“Goodbye, Sam,” he whispered and a tear rolled down his cheek as he slipped out the door and shut it behind him.  
  
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed, Sam,” he said quietly as he climbed into his cruiser and drove away. He would never come back to this house if he could help it. His childhood home was a home no more, nor a refuge or a place to rest his troubled head.  
  
His dreams had been shattered once more.


	3. Sad

**3 – Sad**  
  
It had been exactly two weeks, six days, fourteen hours, twenty-two minutes, and fifty-five seconds since Angel had last seen her beloved son Stone, and with every moment that ticked by, she felt only sadder. If only she could make things right with Jagger, she thought, then she could see her sweet child once again. But she knew that Jagger could not be persuaded by her pleas. He was stubborn by nature and she had deeply wounded him and his pride. There would be no way to melt the ice that had grown around his heart the minute she had dropped the bombshell on him about who she really was.  
  
She felt a tear roll down her face as she edged towards the bath tub, razor in hand. She told herself she needed to stop moping around in baggy, smelly clothes and avoiding simple hygiene because it seemed to take too much effort to so much as shave her legs.  
  
She set the razor down on the edge of the tub and turned on the faucet. As warm water filled the huge, claw-footed basin, she looked at the razor. The light bouncing off of the shiny blades hypnotized her eyes.  
  
She sunk into the tub then and the water enveloped her. She studied the razor the way she would have a face in the crowd of someone she had once known but couldn’t recall the name of. She was that intrigued by it. The idea of using the razor to end her pain was so enticing - much too enticing to resist. So what if she would be found dead and naked in a suite of some anonymous hotel in Los Angeles? Sure she would be indentified and finger-printed and the whole world would finally know that she was the murderess Angel Sorel but it was worth it because living in a world where she couldn’t be with her son was simply not a world she wanted to be a part of any longer.  
  
She grasped the tail end of the razor in her tiny hand. The tears she had been crying ceased as soon as she touched the cool plastic. She felt a sense of calm wash over her. This was the answer. Ending it all was the _only_ answer.  
  
“I will love you forever, Stone, my son. Please forgive me,” she whispered and then took the razor, making the first deep cut to her left wrist. She watched the blood begin to run down her arm and she felt numb. She felt nothing anymore.  
  
She cut her other wrist and watched the blood run in rivulets down her olive skin. It took a long time but finally she felt herself surrendering to the darkness that had pursued her for so long…


	4. Illusion

**Illusion**  
  
Lucky was lacing up his shoes; his last task before he could leave for his shift at the station, when suddenly there was insistent pounding on his door. He wondered who it could be. He’d been staying at Kelly’s for weeks now and he’d yet to receive any visitors here. His mom was back in Europe; his dad was off God only knew where; his sister and brother were busy with their own lives and his weekend to spend with his sons was days away.  
  
“Coming,” he called. “Hold your horses.” He finished tying his shoes and then moved for the door as he shrugged on his warm jacket. It was going to be a cold winter; he was sure of it.  
  
He pulled open the door to see none other than Sam there. She was nervously bouncing around on the balls of her tiny feet. His eyes went wide and his heart slammed painfully against his ribcage. But he wasn’t going to show her that he still cared; that he was still affected by her. He wasn’t going to crumble in front of her either. She had made her decision; she had chosen Jason, and that was that.  
  
There was simply no going back.  
  
A long, expectant silence hung between them and then she ventured, “Hey, Lucky, can we talk?”  
  
“I was actually on my way to work so-”  
  
“Lucky, this can’t wait.”  
  
“What’s going on – is it Danny? Is he alright?” He had grown to love the little boy as his own during the year he and Sam were together. A year that seemed to have just raced by.  
  
“Danny’s fine. I’m actually here to talk about us.”  
  
Lucky felt a brief flash of hope and then he forced it away. "There is no us. There never was.”  
  
“Lucky-“  
  
“It was an illusion, Sam. A fantasy before reality came crashing in. The dream was nice while it lasted but it’s over now and I don’t need you coming around here reminding me of things best forgotten.” Sam looked extremely hurt but he wouldn’t allow himself to feel bad.  
  
“It wasn’t an illusion!” Sam snapped. “If it was an illusion, then that means we never happened. And that would mean that the baby I’m carrying would have to have come from something like well, immaculate conception.”  
  
Lucky’s mouth dropped open and for a moment he couldn’t find his voice. When he did all he could manage to say was, "Are you serious?”  
  
“Yes, I’m serious! And yes, before you ask, he or she is yours. I am almost eight weeks. Jason’s only been back for three and a half. You do the math. Unless you’re going to stand there and say I cheated on you.”  
  
“I am not saying that. I’m just shocked … Are you sure?”  
  
“Dr. Westbourne confirmed it, yes.”  
  
Lucky rubbed his cheek. “I don’t know what to say except … How’s Jason feeling about this?”  
  
“Do you care?”  
  
“Not really.”  
  
Sam shook her head and crossed her arms over her ample chest. “I just found out. I haven’t told him yet. You were the first person I wanted to share the news with… I - I miss you, Lucky.”  
  
Lucky practically growled at her. “Oh really? So life with the hit man isn’t all that it was cracked up to be, huh?”  
  
Sam’s eyes filled with tears and he regretted his words but wouldn’t take them back. He was far too stubborn and far too hurt to do that.  
  
“Lucky, don’t be like that.”  
  
“Sam, I loved you, okay, but you picked Jason – again – and we both have to live with that. We can co-parent this baby but that's as far as it goes. You made your choice; now both of us have to live with it.”


	5. Hot

**5 – Hot**  
  
Was this what death felt like? She seemed to be floating on a pillowy cloud of white.  
  
 _Wait, white?_ She mused. _There is no way I made it to heaven. Not after I killed my father. Even if the fucker deserved it… Can I cuss in heaven?_  
  
She blinked her eyes rapidly in response to the blinding whiteness. Slowly, other sensations began to creep into her consciousness. She could feel a throbbing heat in her arm; hear voices – low, murmuring. "She’s waking up,” a man’s voice said.  
  
Her heart started to hammer painfully in her chest. She wasn’t supposed to be able to feel that. She wasn’t supposed to hurt the way she did now. That’s why she had done what she’d done – to stop feeling forever.  
  
“Nooooo! I’m supposed to be dead,” she thought but quickly realized she must have spoken aloud.  
  
“You’re not supposed to be dead,” a husky voice said. “Your body; your spirit, fought and won the battle. They wouldn’t give up and you can’t either.”  
  
Hot tears immediately filled her eyes and spilled over. Through the murkiness of her vision, she could see a man with salt and pepper hair standing before her in a pristine lab coat. She began to fight, kicking and screaming. She yelped as she felt something tear from her skin. An IV, she realized, pausing for a moment. She quickly returned to flailing on the bed though. How she wanted to die! She wanted it so much!  
  
Through her haze of hysteria, she heard footsteps approaching. She felt hands holding her down and another prick in her opposite arm.  
  
“This is a sedative,” the husky voice said again. Her vision swam and she felt herself getting very sleepy. “Rest now, Angel.”  
  
“Angel,” she whispered. _Wait. How did they-_  
  
She didn’t finish her thought as she was instantly sailing into a deep slumber.


	6. Lick

**6- Lick**  
  
Lucky sat at his desk _vainly_ trying to catch up on paperwork. He couldn’t seem to focus. Sam’s revelation that morning had sent him reeling. He wasn’t sure he would find his equilibrium again anytime soon. The thought of Jason possibly raising his child made him physically ill. Sure, Lucky had been willing to do that with Jake (god rest his beautiful little soul) but that was different…wasn’t it? Why could Lucky never seem to get away from that damned hitman?  
  
Lucky sighed as his eyes flicked to the photo on his desk. It was a picture of Aiden and Cameron, and Lucky himself. He loved those boys; the thought of anyone else ever lying claim to them made him sick.  
  
He sighed and looked up as he heard footsteps approaching. Anna Devane tossed a file down on his desk with a thud. He straightened in his chair and reached for it, reading the name on the tab. “Angel Sorel,” he said. “That name sounds really familiar.” He looked up at Anna questioningly. “What’s going on?”  
  
“The name _should_ sound familiar. In 2001, Angel Sorel resided on the outskirts of this town. She was one of Sonny Corinths’s many molls. She killed her father Joseph Sorel in cold blood and then with the apparent help of Jasper Jacks, Sonny and Sonny's own then-wife Carly, she escaped justice. She was on the lam until just this past week.” Anna recited this information efficiently, as if she were a walking dictionary.  
  
“Okay, I am starting to remember this,” Lucky said. “You said she _was_ on the lam though. Has she been captured?”  
  
“Yes. She attempted to take her own life in a hotel bathroom last week. She was a Jane Doe until the local PD took her fingerprints and realized just who she was. An officer contacted us. She has to return to Port Charles to stand trial for her crimes. She will be extradited here and I need you to fly to Los Angeles and help with the process of bringing her back to town. Nathan will be going with you since Dante, of course, needs to stay close to home at this time.”  
  
“I know,” Lucky said. Of course he knew. After all, his sister was due to deliver any day now. “When do we leave?”  
  
“Tonight, on the next flight out to L.A.,” Anna said. “You shouldn’t be gone more than a day and a half at the most.”  
  
“It’s fine. I need a vacation anyway,” Lucky said sardonically. Anna lifted an eyebrow and then nodded. She knew he would take his work seriously; and he would, of course. He was just grateful for the opportunity to get the hell out of Port Charles for a bit. He needed time away to lick his wounds and try to make peace with his tortured existence...


	7. Too Much

**7 – Too Much**  
  
“Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you, Angel?” Dr. Reed asked.  
  
Angel didn’t answer as a silent teardrop rolled down her cheek. She didn’t want to cry; she thought she had done far too much of that in the last few days, but she couldn’t help it either.  
  
“Two officers will be arriving here within the hour to take you back to New York,” Dr. Reed went on undeterred. Angel had learned over the course of her short stay here that the septuagenarian psychiatrist was a kindly man who actually truly did care about his patients but the knowledge did little to warm her or to comfort her. Nothing could now.  
  
She well knew that she was being extradited back to Port Charles; that she was going to stand trial for her bastard of a father’s murder. She’d no doubt become the burden of some overworked, underpaid public defender who she would be just another number to; just another case - the cause of more paperwork to wade through. She would go to prison for a very long time. No one cared why she had killed Joseph; they only cared that she was locked away for it.  
  
The worst part was thinking about how Stone Jr. would be affected by all of this. Would he be ostracized somehow - taunted? Would he understand why his mother had abandoned him? Would he okay without her?  
  
Would he miss her - even a fraction as much as she already did him?  
  
Another quiet tear drop soon joined the other, leaving salty residue on her plump lips. Dr. Reed reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Angel, I am sorry that this is happening, truly,” he said. She almost did believe him but it didn’t change a damn thing from where she stood.  
  
“Best of luck to you,” he said and then was gone, leaving Angel alone.  
  
She sighed. She would allow herself one more tear and then she’d be done with the self-pity and the sadness. There was nothing she could do to help herself now, so why even bother?

**Author's Note:**

> A reminder that I have no plans ever to finish this fic, but if you want to, you can send kudos and comments anyway. TY!


End file.
